


The Spray Paint Incident Of Junior Year

by TheInevitableSense



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Break Up, Established Relationship, Exadorlion's Fuckboi AU, M/M, Peter Jefferson is Thomas' dad, Teenagers, Teenagers doing dumb things, and a bit of a dick, everyone's a bit of a dick tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 14:13:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9328379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheInevitableSense/pseuds/TheInevitableSense
Summary: For Exadorlion's Fuckboi AU.Alternatively titled: Why Alex Wouldn't Talk About Thomas Jefferson During Senior Year.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [exadorlion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/exadorlion/gifts).



Thomas climbs into his father’s car, shutting the door and buckling himself in. He doesn’t look at his dad as the man turns the car over and pulls out of the police station. The silence is heavy, Thomas just waiting for the oncoming lecture. He stares at his shoes, paint-stained and dirty from the night’s events. The car clock shines the time: 4:50 in the morning. The streetlights pass and cast rays of light across Thomas’ lap.

“Thomas Jefferson, what were you _thinking_?” His father asks. Thomas winces, sliding down into his seat.

“I don’t know…” he mutters.

“I’ll tell you what you were thinking. You _weren’t_ thinking.” His father’s knuckles are pale from where he’s holding onto the steering wheel tightly. Thomas bites his lip. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I’m sorry?” Thomas offers. His father sighs.

“Do you realize what you’ve done, Thomas?” His father asks. Though his voice sounds calm, Thomas knows just how angry his father really is. The little vein on the side of his neck is throbbing, and his jaw is clenched as he waits for Thomas to speak.

“I got caught spray-painting school property,” Thomas mutters.

“No, Thomas. You got caught _vandalizing_ school property with spray paint you _stole_. That’s a _crime_.” His father finally looks at Thomas, and Thomas can see the disappointment and anger in his eyes. “More than that, Thomas. You’re going to school in France in a few months on a scholarship. This could ruin all that!”

Thomas starts, eyes widening. “I… I didn’t even think about that.”

“Of course you didn’t. Don’t you realize that a criminal record could get you kicked out of school before it begins? Thomas, they’re not going to want a foreigner with a record on campus.”

“I… I’m so sorry, dad.”

“There’s no use apologizing, Thomas. What’s done is done. The consequences are yours.”

Thomas takes a shuddering breath, feeling tears start to well in his eyes. _What had he done?_ Had he really destroyed his dreams, just like that? A single mistake and everything couldn’t come crashing down, could it? He feels the tears start to fall. He tears his glasses off his face, and rubs at his eyes. He tries to bite down on his lip to stop from crying. He shouldn’t cry when it’s all his fault.

His father sighs, and one hand comes over to rest on Thomas’ shoulder. “Look, son. I know it’s not fair. Everyone makes dumb mistakes, but you can’t afford _this_ mistake.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Thomas asks, holding his face in his hands.

“...I think I might have an idea,” his father says. Instantly, Thomas picks his head up and looks at him. “I have a friend who’s a lawyer. I’m not promising anything, but maybe I can get him to pull a few strings and get this thing buried.”

“You… you would do that?” Thomas asks, a trickle of hope appearing before his very eyes. His father nods, but his countenance is still stony.

“On a couple of conditions.”

“What? I’ll do anything!” Thomas pleads.

“One, you’re going to France at the end of the week.”

Thomas blinks. “But school isn’t out for another-”

“You can miss a week and a half. You’ve never missed a day before, and you’ve already technically graduated,” his father reminds him. “I’ll worry about the paperwork and find someone for you to stay with, don’t you worry.”

“But why? Why not wait until the end of the summer like we planned?” Thomas asks.

“So you don’t get into trouble over the summer,” his father explains. Thomas swallows, thickly.

“O- okay… what else?” He asks, warily.

“You need to tell me who you were with tonight.”

Thomas stifles a gasp, and looks back down at his feet. “I told you _and_ the police. I was alone,” he mutters. His father sighs.

“The store owner you and your group stole the paint for claims you were with other people. And you can’t honestly expect me to believe that _you_ did it all yourself.”

“There wasn’t anyone else!” Thomas insists.

“Thomas, I need you to stop lying to me. Who were you with?” His father presses. Thomas bites his lip and glares out the window.

“I swear, I was alone. What friends do I have to be with anyway?” Thomas hisses. “James? He’s sick. There’s no one else.” Thomas holds his breath, praying his father believes him. There’s a moment of silence, then:

“So you won’t object to my final condition then. You cannot talk to or be in contact with that Hamilton boy or _any_ of his friends.”

Thomas’ stomach drops. “What?”

“I don’t want you to associate with those heathens, Thomas.”

“I...I _don’t_.” Thomas keeps his eyes glued to the window, afraid to look at his father. His heart is pounding in his ears.

“Thomas,” his father sighs, “do you really think I don’t know?”

Thomas’ heart _stops_. No, there’s no way dad or Mr. Madison knew, they can’t know. “K-know what?”

“Mr. Madison told me that you and James have started to spend time with that rabble.”

“So?” Thomas says, a breath of relief underneath it.

“ _So,_ I need to know you won’t associate with them. All of them are worthless, good-for-nothing trash. It’s a shame the Laurens boy got wrapped up in that Hamilton garbage, but all of them are only going to end up in jail, or worse.”

Thomas has to focus to steady his breathing. Getting upset might blow it all. “We’re in the same gov class. We’re not _friends_ or anything,” he insists. His father hums.

“So there’s no reason for you to protest, then.”

“Absolutely none,” Thomas agrees, feeling his heart freeze in his chest. His nods, trying to stay as relaxed and calm as possible.

“Good. Then, you agree? No talking to Hamilton, Laurens, Lafayette or Mulligan, _and_ you leave for France on Saturday.”

“A-agreed.” The word slips from Thomas’ lips like he’s declaring his own death sentence.

“And you’re not lying to me about being alone?”

“Nope.”

“What about the store owner then?”

“He must be mistaken,” Thomas says, quietly. His father nods and relief floods through Thomas.

“I’ll call my friend in the morning.”

“It’s past five, dad. It _is_ the morning,” Thomas points out. His father chuckles quietly.

“Alright, smartass. I’ll call him _later_ in the morning.”

The tension doesn’t disappear from the car, but the rest of the ride is silent. Thomas gazes out the window, mulling over what he’s done. what he’s agreed to. How is he going to tell Alex? When they get home, Thomas follows his father inside, trying to figure out how he’s going to get around this bullshit rule. He can’t just _stop_ talking to Alex.

He tells his father that he’s exhausted, and his father lets him go upstairs to his room. He creeps up the staircase, trying not to wake any of his siblings. He can hear his father talk quietly with his mother, the sound of their voices travelling behind him. Thomas tiptoes down the hallway to his bedroom, opening the door quietly and shutting it as silently as possible. The moment it’s closed, Thomas lets out a breath. He turns, sliding off his jacket and hoping just to fall into bed.

“Hey.” The whispered greeting almost makes Thomas jump out of his skin. In the darkness of his unlit bedroom, Thomas can’t tell where it came from. His eyes flick about, trying to pick out the intruder. He’s half a second away from calling out when the person laughs. “Thomas, calm down. It’s me.”

“Alex?” Thomas whisper-calls. He feels against the wall for a light switch, and a second later the room is bathed in light. Alexander Hamilton, perched on the edge of Thomas’ bed, winces and blinks in the light. “What are you doing here?” Thomas breathes.

“Coming to check on you,” Alex whispers. He runs his hand through his slicked-back hair. “You didn’t show up at Herc’s.”

“At Herc’s?” Thomas asks, not understanding. Alex nods.

“We agreed. If we had to scatter, we would meet up at Hercules’. You never showed!”

Thomas blinks, suddenly remembering. “Yeah, well, I was a tad busy,” he hisses. Alex cocks an eyebrow and glances at the clock on the wall.

“For four hours?” He asks. Thomas’ jaw clenches, and he nods stiffly. He must be glaring because Alex’s brow furrows in concern. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know Alex. Am I okay? After being _arrested_ and spending _hours_ in a communal cell and getting chewed out by my dad?”

Alex’s eyes widen. “You got _caught_?” He whispers.

“Yes, Alex. I got caught with a stolen paint can in my hand and no one else around. I spent the last few hours in a police station _covering_ for your ass.” Thomas crosses his arms, glaring at Alex with as much anger as he can muster.

“Did you even try to run?” Alex asks. Thomas jaw drops.

“ _That’s_ your defense for leaving me behind with the evidence?” He breathes, trying to keep his voice from rising any further.

“I told you to run, didn’t I? Why didn’t you?” Alex hisses back, eyes narrowing. Thomas scowls.

“I froze, Alex. I’m not like _you_ ,” he says. Alex blinks.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not used to running from authority figures,” Thomas explains. It’s Alex’s turn to be shocked. “Don’t protest, Alex. You’re always running from teachers and cops and the parents of the girls you’ve slept with.”

“So you assume I’m some sort of low-life? Like your father does? Like everyone else?” Alex accuses. Thomas blinks.

“No!” He protests. “You just-”

“Run from the cops a lot,” Alex interrupts, mocking. His eyes are alight in anger and Thomas shrinks from it. He sighs, screwing his eyes shut.

“I shouldn’t have said that. I’m exhausted, Alex.” Thomas looks back up at the other boy. “I just want to go to bed.”

The anger falls from Alex’s eyes as he stands. “Hey, it’s okay babe,” he says, crossing the room quietly. He takes Thomas’ hands in his own and leans up to peck a little kiss on Thomas’ lips. “I understand. You went through a lot tonight.”

Thomas leans his forehead on his boyfriend’s, letting out a sigh. He looks in Alex’ eyes and all the bitterness disappears. They stand there for a moment, breathing together, hands intertwined. Then Thomas leans down for another kiss, a longer one this time, letting go of one of Alex’s hands to hold the other boy’s head.

“Sorry I left you behind,” Alex breathes, leaning back for just a second and then pressing their lips back together.

“Sorry for getting mad,” Thomas replies. Their lips slide against each other and soon, Alex’s tongue is in Thomas’ mouth. Thomas bites and sucks at Alex’ lower lip, the tension in his body disappearing by the second. He falls back against his bedroom door, drawing Alex with him and Thomas wants nothing more than for this moment to continue forever.

Suddenly, there’s a knocking at Thomas’ door. He feels it in his back and he pushes them both away from it. “Thomas? What are you doing up here?” His father calls from the other side of the door. Both Thomas and Alex stiffen, breaking the kiss and freezing in place.

“Getting ready for bed,” Thomas replies, heart pounding in his chest.

“I heard voices, Thomas.”

“It’s just me, dad,” he says, trying to think quickly. “I’m… practicing my French.”

“Why?”

“Well, I don’t have much time to practice now. I… I need to be ready.” Thomas bites his lip, wishing that the universe will give him one thing and not let his father open the door.

“I’m glad you see you’re so accepting of this, Thomas,” his father says. Alex frowns, his expression confused and questioning.

“What other choice do I have?” Thomas asks, but it’s harsher and bitterer than he intended. He hears his father sigh from the hallway.

“Get some sleep, Thomas.”

“Alright, just a few more minutes,” he replies. His father grunts his assent and Thomas hears him walk away. His father’s footsteps thud away, down the hallway and down the stairs. Once Thomas can’t hear him anymore, he finally lets out a breath.

“What was that about?” Alex asks. Thomas squeezes Alex’s hand. How could he have forgotten his deal this quickly? What was he going to say?

“My dad’s going to try and get my charges dropped,” Thomas begins. Alex breaks out into a grin.

“That’s great!” he says. Thomas winces, hesitating. Alex’s smile falls slowly. “What’s wrong Thomas?”

“I… I had to agree to a few things.” Thomas takes a breath, but Alex doesn’t speak. “He tried to get me to admit I wasn’t alone, but I kept quiet for you.”

“You didn’t have to-”

‘Yes, yes I did. Especially considering what I… what I have to do for him.” Thomas wants to look away, break eye contact but Alex’ beautiful eyes lock him in. “He wants me to go to France early.”

“How early?” Alex breathes.

“I leave this Saturday.”

Alex’s eyes widen. “But… school! And summer! And-” Thomas is already shaking his head.

“Dad doesn’t care. He’s sending me away so I can’t get in any more trouble.” Thomas falls silent, waiting for Alex’s reaction. Alex squeezes his hand and leans up for another kiss.

“Alright then, we’re just going to have to make good use of the time.” Alex smiles, his eyes sliding shut as he tries to connect their lips again. Thomas leans back, Alex tries to chase him but when he can’t find Thomas his eyes open. Hurt and confusion flash in Alex’s eyes. “Thomas?”

“I also had to agree not to see you, or any of your friends,” Thomas admits, words spilling out quickly. In the resulting silence, the words ring like a death knell.

“He…” Alex breathes, “he doesn’t know about us, does he?” The fear is evident on Alex’s face and Thomas shakes his head emphatically.

“He just thinks we’re friends and you’re corrupting me. He’d never think we were dating. Not in his worst nightmares,” he breathes. Alex’s jaw clenches, his eyes drop to the floor.

“How dare he?” Alex growls. Thomas blinks, confused. “It’s not his place to tell you who you get to talk to.”

“He’s my dad, Alex. He’s also saving my skin here.”

“So what?” Alex says, eyes shooting up. The defiant fire that normally makes Thomas melt now scares him. “A vandalism charge is nothing.”

“Vandalism _and_ theft! You forget I’m going out of the _country_ for school,” Thomas reminds him. “I can’t have anything on my record or an outstanding charge or-”

“You could always just stay here!” Alex interrupts. “Don’t go to France at all!”

Thomas’ eyes widen. “Alexander, I’ve been working for this for years! I can’t just… throw it away!”

“But if you and I can’t be together then…” Alex trails. It takes Thomas a second to understand that Alex is completely serious.

“Alex, I was always going to go to France,” he says. Alex frowns, looking away.

“I… I was hoping to convince you to stay over the summer,” he admits. Thomas’ eyes widen.

“You can’t honestly think I would give up my dream for _you_ ,” he says. Alexander starts, his eyes coming up and expression hardening. Thomas realizes too late how harsh his words sounded but it’s too late to take them back.

“Well, I could try!” Alex insists. “I don’t want to _lose_ you!”

“I don’t want to lose you either,” Thomas rushes, “but…”

“But what? _But what?_ ” Alex presses, his voice starting to rise. “You’re going to have to chose, Thomas. _Me_ or France.”

Thomas looks at his boyfriend in shock, feeling his head start to shake of it’s own accord. “France,” he says.

Alex’s eyes narrow. He steps back, wrenching his hand from Thomas’ and glaring. “Are you serious?” He hisses. “You’re really choosing a glorified vacation over me?”

“It’s not a vacation, I’m going to _school_ there! It’s my _future_! I can’t throw that away.” Thomas can’t believe that Alex really thought that _he_ was more important than his education. Alex steps back further, anger and betrayal on his face.

“What happened to ‘you and me, forever?’” He accuses. Thomas crosses his arms.

“I’m coming back, one day Alex. Forever starts _then_.”

Alex’s eyes widen. He freezes. “You’re choosing to leave me, and you expect me to _wait_ for you?”

“Well, yeah!” Thomas replies. “What else would you do?”

Alex’s jaw drops. He can’t form words for a moment but once he gets himself under control, he spits: “Fuck you.” Thomas’ breath catches in his throat.

“Alex-”

“No, fuck you Thomas. Have fun in France.” With that, Alex spins around and stalks over to Thomas’ bedroom window. Before Thomas can do or say anything, Alex slides it open and hops out, jumping to the tree just outside. Thomas rushes to the window sill, just in time to see Alexander climb to the ground. The other boy looks up a Thomas and sticks his middle finger up at the window. Then he takes off, sprinting across Thomas’ yard and disappearing into the early-morning darkness.

Thomas watches him go, having to hold himself back from calling out after him or hopping out the window or doing something else equally stupid. Slowly, Thomas leans back from the window and shuts it quietly. He leans his forehead against the cool glass, watching his breath fog up both the window and his glasses.

_This is for the best_ , he thinks. There’s tightness in his chest, however, and he almost feels like breaking out into tears again. Suddenly, he’s very, _very_ afraid that this will be the last time he ever sees Alexander. He gasps, feeling the tears well in his eyes. Alex is gone, just like that. He didn’t even say goodbye.

Thomas sinks to his knees, the tears starting to fall again and he tries to hold back the sob crawling its way up his throat. He can’t be caught crying now. He tears his glasses off his face and presses his palms into his eyes. He head falls into his chest and he can smell Alex on his shirt. He presses the fabric to his face and tries to breathe it in so deeply he can’t ever forget it.

Thomas flies to France on Saturday; certain Alexander Hamilton will never be a part of his life again.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry Mariane, I just can't seem to write joy.
> 
> I'm not really sure what this was. Check out exadorlion on tumblr for more information on this AU
> 
> Or you could always hit me up @TheInevitableSense


End file.
